CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE: METAPHORICAL CAT REGULARLY PUTS REALITY TO THE TEST

I noticed the cat was limping the other morning.

Really limping. She wouldn't put any weight on her right front paw at all.

Not even to eat.

This is serious, I thought.

A quick, and slightly panicked, trip to the vet's office revealed Melissa (that's the cat) had strained or bruised her paw, probably while jumping.

Melissa is an enthusiastic leaper, but not always an accurate one.

But the vet assured me it was nothing serious and gave the cat a shot.

Melissa doesn't like shots. Melissa doesn't like vets. And she certainly doesn't like being tossed into a cat carrier and dragged to the vet when she has a sore paw.

Not that you could tell this when it was time to leave.

She sauntered, not limping, along the counter in the vet's office and flicked her tail endearingly at the assistant.

"She's such a little sweetheart," crooned the assistant.

Melissa even scooted, unprompted, into the cat carrier. "Don't be fooled," I told the assistant, who looked at me skeptically.

The halo disappeared when it came time to take Melissa out of the cat carrier.

Back went the ears. Up went the tail. Out came the teeth.

Good thing she's declawed, or I'd have to go get a shot.

But nobody's putting me in a cat carrier, I can tell you that right now.

She seems fine now, although she will limp a little if she wants sympathy or thinks she's about to get yelled at.

I read a magazine article that suggested that cat lovers are metaphorical thinkers while dog lovers take things at face value.

Cats are metaphorical creatures, never one thing or the other until they start shredding your favorite sweater or knocking over lamps.

Cats are experts at hiding their true intentions.

They bounce down stairs and slide under carpets with amazing coolness, each step conveying, "I meant to do that," just before they limp off to a closet and hide for three days while they heal.

Dogs, on the other hand, wear their hearts on their sleeves, so to speak.

Hurt a dog's feelings, and you'll know immediately, although he'll forgive you just as quickly.

Hurt a cat's feelings, and you won't know for weeks, and then you'll only have a few seconds to realize it as you feel her claws slicing through your carotid artery.

That's what I like about cats. They're subtle.

Except for that yowling and hissing and clawing part.

So much for metaphors.

Peggy O'Farrell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.